


hey little trouble what you doin' tonight?

by phebpheb13



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, High School, I did Not mean for it to be this much about her, Multi, No Aliens, Pryce and cutter aren't that horrible people, but they're a little sympathetic, everyone is at least a lil sad, idk what ships I'm gonna do but we'll see, they're assholes, weirdly Pryce centric?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phebpheb13/pseuds/phebpheb13
Summary: Welcome to Hephaestus High, where Marcus Cutter and Miranda Pryce rule the halls, Daniel Jacobi occasionally blows things up, and Doug Eiffel... is doing his best.It's a wolf 359 high school au!!!!!!(title and chapter titles from the song Little Trouble by Better Oblivion Community Center)
Relationships: Daniel Jacobi & Alana Maxwell, Daniel Jacobi/Warren Kepler, Dominik Koudelka/Renée Minkowski, Doug Eiffel & Hera, Isabel Lovelace/Renée Minkowski, Marcus Cutter & Miranda Pryce, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Warren Kepler/Rachel Young (past)
Kudos: 12





	hey little trouble what you doin' tonight?

Douglas Eiffel was not having a good day. He overslept his alarm by fifteen minutes, which wouldn’t be a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that his alarm was set for only twenty minutes before the school bus came. He woke up that day to a pounding on his first-floor window, and saw a silhouette hitting it over and over. Slowly he swung his legs over the side of the bed and shuffled to the window, where he pulled back the curtain to see the furious face of his best friend, Hera. She was fifteen, like him, but was often mistaken for younger, due to her freckles and almost cartoonish large brown eyes. Those eyes, however, were currently narrowed in rage as he pushed open the window.  
“Doug!”  
“Mornin’.”  
“Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?”  
“Nope, although by the look on your face I don’t want to.”  
“You have four minutes. Go!”  
“Wait _fou_ -”  
“Why are you standing around talking to me? Get dressed!”  
He closed his curtain and hurried to his dresser, where he grabbed the first t-shirt he saw, a Captain America shirt. Basic, but it would do for the first day-Shit. It was the first day of school, and he was going to be late. He threw on a pair of shorts and ran out the door with a yelled “Bye!” to his parents.  
The bus was just about to pull up to the stop near his house when he reached it. He and Hera climbed onto the bus and slid into seats. They must’ve looked an odd pair, with Hera’s long light brown hair neatly parted and brushed while his darker hair stuck up in at least seven different spots. In addition, she was wearing a pale blue sundress while he wore a wrinkled t-shirt.   
“Sorry I overslept,” he said, and she sighed.  
“It’s okay, we still made it on time. Don’t do it again, though.”  
“Hey, you know what I just remembered?”  
“What?”  
“It’s our five year friend-iversary!”  
“Really?”  
“Yep. September first, 2015. Second day of fifth grade. Your sister and Marcus covered me with glue, you came over to apologize on her behalf but you were behind me, so I mistook you for her and almost punched you in the face.”   
Miranda and Hera Pryce may have been twins, but they didn’t look it, especially after Miranda discovered hair dye. Once you knew, you could see the similarities, but if you were a fifth grader who had just moved to a new town you’d have no idea. It wasn’t their looks that were similar, it was their voices. Eerily similar, though after five years Doug could identify the softness of Hera’s voice from the sharpness of Miranda’s. However, ten year old Doug couldn’t set the voice of the mean girl who built a contraption that dumped glue on him from the shy girl who had spent the day quietly drawing in the corner. She had approached him from behind and started to speak, and the next thing he knew his fist was an inch from the face of a girl who was definitely not Miranda Pryce. They were fast friends after that.  
“Well, happy friend-iversary!” Hera replied, drawing him back to the present. “Five years is a long time.”   
“Here’s to many more.” He stuck out his fist for a fist bump, and she returned it. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat, would you? I didn’t get breakfast today.”  
“I have an apple.”  
“I don’t like fruit, Hera. You know this.”  
“You’re going to get scurvy someday.”  
“Oh please. Only cartoon pirates get scurvy.”  
“If you say so.”

_________

Alana Maxwell was having a mediocre day. Her parents wouldn’t let her sleep over at Daniel’s the past night so she did her usual routine. She woke up at five am, got on the bus that stopped near Daniel’s house, grabbed some Starbucks, walked to his house, and started scaling the tree that led to his window. It was an easy climb that was made medium difficulty with a Starbucks drink tray in hand. Once she was close enough to his window, she pushed it open and slid the drink tray inside onto his desk before climbing inside herself. From there, she worked on her current coding side project, a dumb little chatbot, until 6:45 when Daniel’s alarm went off. He hit snooze and sat up, rubbing his eyes.  
“Morning,” she said.  
“Morning,” he replied, although it came out more like ‘Mnnmroning’, as he was yawning while trying to speak. “Didja bring me coffee?”  
“Oh, I’m doing lovely, thank you for asking.” She handed him coffee. “Yeah, I brought it.”  
“You’re the best.”  
“I know.” Daniel disappeared into his bathroom to get ready, and Alana turned back to her computer. He came out fifteen minutes later, and it was time for the next step of their morning routine. Alana climbed back out the window and down the tree, and stood out of view of the windows while she waited for Daniel to say goodbye to his parents.   
A few minutes later he emerged, face set in a scowl.  
“Why don’t you go try out for football?” he said, in imitation of his father. “You’ll get all the girls that way.”  
“Three years. Just three more. Then we can go off to college.”  
“God, I can’t wait.” Daniel paused. “I’m sorry, I’m not being fair. You have it much worse.”  
“Yes Daniel, because that’s how it works. Only the person who has the worst parents ever is allowed to complain about them. Nobody else, ever.” They arrived at the bus stop, and sat down on the bench to wait. In a couple of minutes, the school bus pulled up, and they slid into a seat. The next stop was Miranda and Marcus’ stop, and so of course the incessant chatter of the other kids stopped the moment they boarded the bus. Even the new kids knew enough to be intimidated into silence.   
Marcus Cutter was the son of Lisa Cutter, principal of Hephaestus High, and that, along with the fact that he was wearing a suit vest and tie on September first, was all anybody needed to know about him. It was also all most people did know about him. He was intimidating, sure, but his counterpart Miranda Pryce? She was _terrifying_.   
The only person in the school smarter than Alana, Miranda could do anything with access to a computer, and almost anything without, too. And she did not use those powers for good. Miranda had a twin sister, Alana was pretty sure. She vaguely recalled seeing a shy looking girl who didn’t look that much like Miranda around, although Miranda had cut her hair to a shoulder length bob and dyed it in a black to grey ombre around sixth grade, so that definitely separated her from her sister. There was also the matter of her eyes. They were bionic eyes, developed by Goddard Futuristics, the company Marcus’s dad ran (they also built Miranda’s bionic fingers for her right hand), and the color was an unnatural piercing blue that added an air of intimidation.   
Not to say Alana didn’t like them. Marcus was interesting enough company, and it was always nice to talk to someone smarter than her, even if Miranda always looked three seconds from murdering her. Her, Daniel, and Warren sometimes hung out with Miranda, Marcus, and Rachel Young, the third member of that group, and the only person other than Miranda who Marcus seemed to actually like. Rachel wasn’t on that bus, however, so it was just the king and queen of Goddard that sat down in the seats behind Daniel and Alana while the bus started moving again.   
Next stop was Warren’s, and Alana looked over to see Daniel straightening his shirt and running a hand through his hair.   
“You look fine, don’t worry,” she said.   
“Only ‘fine’? Not ‘stunning, drop-dead gorgeous, perfect?’”   
“What I mean is that you can stop adjusting your appearance every two seconds. You really think Warren will notice if one of your hairs is a millimeter to the left?”  
“Oh, leave me alone,” he said, but she noticed his hands falling still.   
Ever since she met him in third grade, Daniel Jacobi had had an all-consuming, hopeless crush on Warren Kepler. Well, maybe not hopeless. Warren’s emotions were a mystery to everyone, possibly even to Warren himself. Sometimes he acted like he couldn’t care less whether Daniel lived or died, but sometimes… Not that Alana was any expert on romance, of course. The closest thing she’d come was when she went out to dinner with a girl in seventh grade once, but once her parents found out that girl was openly gay, she was forbidden from seeing her ever again.   
A few minutes later, the bus grinded to a halt, Warren climbed on, and Alana felt Daniel stiffen beside her.   
“Good morning Daniel, Alana.”  
“Hey,” Alana said.  
“Good morning Warren,” Daniel said, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice (and failing pretty miserably). The next few minutes were spent in silence, and Alana pulled out her phone.

_Private message to Sparky Sparky Boom Boom_

_Stop staring at warren_

_I am not staring_

_you’re practically drooling_

_Ok but can u blame me_

_yes I can_

_> :0_

_< 3_

_No im mad at you_

_< 3_

_< 3_

________

Miranda Pryce was having an excellent day. She had slept at Marcus’s the previous night, so she didn’t have to see her family at all that morning. The Cutters always did a huge first day of school breakfast, which she found to be a bit over the top, but she could never say no to waffles. Afterwards, they headed up to Marcus’s room, where he performed his hour long beauty ritual. While waiting, Miranda ran a check on her bionic eyes, making sure she didn’t need to do any repairs before school started. She couldn’t find any problems, so she moved on to her fingers.  
She had three robotic fingers on her right hand; the thumb, the index finger, and the ring finger. They were black and smooth, but other than that they were essentially just fingers. If fingers needed to be updated once in a while, that is. They were the most technologically advanced bionics in the world, but more importantly they were _hers_. _She_ made them. Nobody else. It didn’t matter if she was giving the credit to Goddard, the public eye was never something she cared about anyways. What mattered was she had fingers that couldn’t bend and break like her pitiful flesh ones, and eyes that didn’t go blind before the age of twelve like all the doctors said they would. They were the parts of her that she was responsible for, that couldn’t be claimed by her parents or shared with her sister. They-  
“Miranda,” Marcus’s singsong voice called from his bathroom. “I need your opinion on my outfit.”  
“Mine? You do know I know nothing about fashion, right?”  
“You’re the only person whose opinion I trust, so yes, yours.”  
“Fine. Are you decent?”  
“Morally, or....”  
“Marcus. Are you wearing clothes?”  
“No, I’m naked and wanted your opinion on my ass. Yes I’m wearing clothes.”  
“...Good point.”  
Marcus was wearing a black suit vest and white tie, because he was Marcus, so of course he was. “Won’t you be a bit warm in that?”  
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is the aesthetic.”  
“Of course, how silly of me.”  
“So, how is it?”  
“How is what?”  
“The aesthetic.”  
“It’s… formal.”  
“Yes, but is it _powerful_?”  
“ _What?_ ”  
“Will it strike fear into the hearts of my enemies?”  
“Wha- You know what, never mind. Yes, Marcus. They will cower in fear.”  
“Excellent. You look lovely yourself, Miranda.”  
“I’m wearing basically the same thing I wear every day.” Her wardrobe consisted almost entirely of black clothing, and that day was no exception, as she was wearing a black shirt and a black pair of jean shorts.   
“Yes, and it’s _lovely_.”  
“Thank you, I guess.”  
“Now, let’s get going, shall we? We don’t want to miss the bus.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank y'all so much to reading! The other characters will come in soon, I promise. Shoutout to the w359 discord who spent two hours talking about this idea with me really late at night, and huge shoutout to harper who helped me revise this!


End file.
